PreMDpilot

Dad, I left my heart up there.

Gary Powers

I don't really even remember my first flight, my first solo, my first checkride, or my first passenger. For some reason, none of those moments are stuck in my head. It was so long ago that I can't really even remember what it was like back then. When I did fly, it always just seemed like something I would do. It was definitely fun and special to me, but for me, on par with someone climbing a mountain, or hiking a trail. It's so ingrained in my soul that don't even think about it. Now that I'm not flying though, I find that I obsess about it. Like a drug addict looking for the next fix, I am constantly trying to figure out new, cheap, ways to become airborne and stay airborne. I spend thousands of dollars on equipment and training so that my feet can leave the ground for a few short moments, and I can get that small exhilaration. I love flying with all my heart. Ok, well with most of my heart, the other half belongs to biological science.

"Any time you're ready dude."

Got up at 6:30, hiked a 400 foot hill with a 15 pound backpack on, strapped into my harness, clipped into my wing, and here I stand looking over the edge of a sloping cliff at the verdant, green field that is my landing zone. My flight instructor is there giving us encouragement. I think about what I'm going to do on takoff. Push out with your chest, arms out to the sides like the flightless dodos that we are, and keep pushing till you're airborne. I take a deep breath, gather my mental faculties and push...hard. The wing comes up smoothly, just like intended. I look up, don't see it, but sense it drifting slightly left. I run in that direction. Approaching the edge of the cliff, I think to myself "COMMIT," and suddenly, I'm airborne. Everything is silent and smooth as the ground drops away from me. I settle into my harness and experiment with turns a little. I am afraid to turn too much as I can see that I'm barely going to make the landing zone as is. I let out a loud whoop as I glide gently toward the field. I try to mentally prepare myself for the landing, but I'm so overwhelmed with all the new sensory experiences that are rushing at me that I can barely think. I completely forget to try to land into the wind. Good thing there isn't any. I go into the landing with as much speed as the wing will let me, flare gently before the ground, and flop gracefully onto my ass in a very ugly landing. But I was laughing like a kid in a candy store, and I had just finished my first paraglider flight, short and ugly as it was. I've found a new passion.

White House Unexpectedly Upbeat

This is a little frightening to me. For me, there are two possible explanations. The first is that Bush is putting up a brave face to ensure strong party leadership going into the midterms. This seems like something Bush would do based on his decidedly upbeat postion on Iraq.

The other, darker reason is that they somehow have control of the polling stations. It sounds very conspiracy theoryish, but that's the only other possibilty I see. It would be a lot easier with the new electronic voting apparati that states are adopting.The exit polls in Ohio two years ago were inexplicably out of tune with the actual election results. If that happens again this year in multiple states or key states, there needs to be a very thorough investigation of exactly why the poll numbers and the election numbers aren't matching up. It might not even be criminal, but just something wrong with the way polling is conducted, but the investigation needs to be there.

Lot's of news to report to the whole three people who actually read this blog. The biggest news is that I received an interview at the medical school that I am really hoping to go to. I have been prepping for the interview for the last few days and I feel like I've clarified the reasons I want to be a doctor pretty well. Three weeks until interview blast-off.
In other news, I bought something that I have been trying to get into for a number of years. I have a burning desire to fly, but the hobby is so expensive that I have been looking for a (relatively) cheap way to keep in the sky while I'm in medical school. I stumbled upon paragliding a few years ago and now I have one. Craigslist is the greatest site ever! I bought a paraglider and I'm currently learning how to use it. My first real flight is tommorrow. Then one or two more training flights and I can do it all I want, and I only have to pay for gas, repairs to the wing or motor, and a new paraglider every three or four years depending on use. I can't wait.
And lastly, dating prospects have started to surface. I don't know what it is about dating, but it seems like I'll go for months without a decent prospect and then, out of the blue, three or four girls who seem datable will show up. It's actually kind of annoying. My roomate has the same problem. Ladies, please try to space it out a little....thanks.

Funny post from Best of Craigslist. Edited for language


Let me start here...

Sunday evening I was starting to get my wits back.
You see I had been drinking like a sailor on a 2 day the night before. This
really has nothing to do with what happened next (or does it??).

I was about to throw a pair of sweats on and sink into a lazyboy to watch a little
Entourage when I feel (and hear) my stomach rumble. Oh yeah, I guess last nights
drinking has finally decided to catch up with me. The gurgle was enough to
trigger a brisk walk to my salvation area. Yes the bathroom. I call it this
because I have young children and sometimes I'll even fake having to take a
duker just to get a little 10 minute "its all about me" rest. Pathetic, yes I
know...but you get your small slices of joy where you can.

I digress, I storm throught the bathroom door and actually struggle a little to get the
boxer-briefs down in time for an explosive havanna omelette (copyright
Craigslist). I mean it is loud, eratic, and extremely smelly. I am in mid-sh**
actually considering if I will have to do a quick toilet brush swipe when this
is all over. The thing that is different from the Sunday evenings past is that
this particual movement actually has an itchy kind of burning sensation. Nothing
to be alarmed about at this point, but just a little tougher on the old a** pipe
than usual. I complete the act with little trouble and I gotta tell ya, my belly
feels nothing but sweet, sweet relief.

I wad up a little extra paper from the full roll next to me in antipipation of some extra TLC and a potential "finger-poke-through" (you cant be too careful) and begin a deliberate wipe.
HOLY GOD! Its like I just wiped my a** with a broken beer bottle! What the hell
happened. A "roid" oh God dont let it be a roid...a polyp..I dont even know what
that is. Is it some kind of venomous insect that found its way into my underwear
and bit me? I decide its best to grab a little lotion from the toiletries stand
next to the thrown and apply it liberally to the paper before each wipe. WOW,
this feels much nicer. Repeat this step 3 or 4 times until I'm sure there is
nothing to blow into my underwear later and I get up. I think about a shower,
but I dont wanna miss my show. Nothing else to report at this point.

Monday - Get up and go to work. Cup of Joe and a smoke. Instand
laxitive. I go into the work head. HOLY GOD its back! My a** is on fire. Like I
just sat on a ground nest of yellow jackets. I wipe a tear from my eye and begin
a wipe that would bring an Ultimate Fighter to his knees. Holy Fu** how bout the
boss coughing up for some 3 ply instead of this $5 per case freezer paper.

Tuesday - See Monday (I actually look down to see if somebody put a
cactus in the bowl)

Wednesday - See Tuesday

Thursday - After my
Joe and Smoke I am considering hold it as long as I can. I make it about an
extra 1/2 hour and my knees and chest hurt so I surrender - See Wednesday

Today (Friday) - On my way in to the office, I am worried and actually
thinking about what I can potentially rub on my a** before my Joe and Smoke to
ensure an easier delivery. Butter! I think there's butter in the work fridge.
What better natual lubricant? This will definitely dull the shards of glass that
will soon be piercing my lower regions. When I get here I go right for the
cooler, throw open the door and grab the old Oleo. What the hell am I doing. Its
come to this? Am I an animal or some sicko..could you imagine somebody walking
in during application? Or worse my guilt after putting this back in the Kenmore
when I'm finished. Thats just wrong. I decide against it. Before my Joe and
Smoke, I actually feel a rumble. Lets get it on. Now I'm just pissed. I head
into the latreen (sp?) and let 'er fly. I havent been this scared since
Poltegiest in the theater when I was 9. That was a PG movie?? I'm
off-track..sorry. Nothing...no pain...no tear...no horror. Just the regualr ol
shot gun full of pudding against the back of the bowl. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I hope its really over. What the hell was that anyway?